This could be all that we know (Of love and all)
by LemonStar
Summary: ..Daryl/Beth.. S4 - post "Alone". A one-shot. The funeral home wasn't a trap, Beth was never taken, and both Daryl and Beth decide to hang around for a while.


**1/1.**

_Maybe you don't have to leave that. Maybe we stick around here for a while. They come back, we'll just make it work. They may be nuts, but maybe it'll be all right._

"Slow. But not too slow," he said in a low voice and she wanted to roll her eyes.

What did that even mean?

But she didn't say anything to him that would break her concentration. She kept staring ahead, doing her best to keep the bow steady. He was standing directly behind her, looking over her shoulder, watching her every move carefully and she was well aware of his scrutinizing gaze. She did her best to remember everything he had taught her so far and deep down, she knew she wanted to impress him. Please him. Show him that she could do this.

Survive.

With him.

She was not going to be dead weight.

The world was so quiet around them that day. Not even the wind seemed to be blowing. Just still air and the sun shining above. No birds singing, no bugs buzzing, not even a Walker snarling nearby. Just them and the rabbit about fifteen feet away, its nose twitching as it ate something from the grass.

"Steady," he said, his breath tickling her skin, and she licked her dry lips, not blinking, her finger hovering over the release.

And when she thought she was ready, when she thought she had a clear shot, she fired, releasing the bolt and watching it fly towards their intended meal. She was just a couple of centimeters off however and as the bolt speared the ground, the rabbit darted off, disappearing in the trees.

"Dang it," Beth huffed, blowing out the breath she had been holding.

"S'alright," Daryl said, stepping to her side. "You're still learnin'," he reminded her.

"My learning just cost us dinner," she frowned at him.

He shrugged, not at all looking too concerned. "We still got pig's feet inside," he said and then smirked to himself when he watched her thinly-veiled grimace. "Come on," he cocked his head towards the trees and she handed him back the crossbow. "We gotta get your wrists strong," he commented as they walked.

Beth was quiet and nodded her head in agreement. She looked down at her thin wrists and the bracelets she wore on one, covering the deep scar beneath.

"Where'd you learn to hunt?" She asked, shaking her head slightly as if shaking herself from where her mind seemed ready to wander to and she looked up at him. She noticed he had been looking down at her bracelets, too, but then his eyes moved forward again, back towards the woods.

"Merle," Daryl answered simply with a shrug of his shoulders.

She wanted him to say more but she had been with Daryl long enough now to know that forcing him to talk would do her no good. Especially when it came to his brother. If he ever talked about Merle, he was the one who brought him up. She couldn't just ask him questions. They would just be ignored and go unanswered. If Daryl wanted to tell her more about Merle and hunting, she would just have to patiently wait.

Daryl grabbed the bolt from the ground as they passed it and they stopped for a moment so he could load the crossbow again, she unable to help but watch the way the muscles in his arms flexed. She shook her head at herself again.

They took a step into the woods and Beth slowly unsheathed her knife. Daryl brought the crossbow up to his shoulder, ready to take aim and fire if need be. She watched him as he studied the ground and she looked, too, but she knew she wasn't seeing what he was. She just saw leaves and twigs and nothing out of the ordinary but he crouched down for a closer look.

She wanted to ask him to show her, to continue teaching her, but she didn't have to say it. It was as if he could read her mind and maybe he could. They had been together for a while now. She couldn't be sure how long it had been since the prison fell and they had to run but it already felt like it had happened so long ago and it had been just her and Daryl, doing their best to survive.

She was silently so grateful that Daryl was the one with whom she had escaped. Maggie, Glenn, Rick, Michonne, all of them. They could all kill a Walker as well as the next but with Daryl, he was a hunter. He could survive forever in these woods if that was what they had to do. She had meant what she told him nights earlier. It was as if he was made for this type of world. Without him, she would have starved to death if a Walker hadn't gotten to her already.

Daryl turned her head up towards her to see that he had her attention. "Look carefully," he said and she leaned down closer. "See the way the leaves lay here? Rabbit came tearin' this way," he said, standing up again, one of his knees cracking.

Beth stared down at the leaves. "I don't see…" she almost felt embarrassed to admit it.

Daryl didn't even blink or sigh with impatience. He held his arm out, pointing. "See the leaves there? The way they've fallen from the trees? Now look at these leaves." They both looked down to the leaves at their feet. "Leaves don't fall that way."

She nodded, seeing it a little clearer now, but she didn't understand how Daryl could look at something for a half a second and just _know_ what happened. It never ceased to amaze her.

They walked quietly along, almost creeping, Beth almost afraid to breathe in case she disturbed Daryl's tracking. He stared straight ahead, the crossbow to his shoulder, and she made sure she kept herself out of his way. He was looking to the ground again but she didn't break the silence by asking.

He suddenly stopped and she brought herself to a quick halt, holding her breath again. Daryl held up a finger to her and then directed it towards a brush ahead. He waited, keeping the crossbow aimed, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Beth watched and waited with anticipation.

She had grown to love watching him hunt over these past few weeks. Deep concentration and patience and years of training and conditioning himself. There was still so much she didn't know about him but she knew that sometimes, what he hunted and killed was all he had to eat. She looked at Daryl hunting and was reminded of how lucky she had been with her mom and dad and the farm. She had always been provided for and well taken care of. Even with Merle at his side, Daryl had, very much so, had to take care of himself.

The rabbit suddenly darted out from the brush and Daryl fired the bolt instantly. The rabbit dropped to the ground, the bolt piercing it's side, killing it. Beth went to go collect both the rabbit and the bolt and she smiled as she came back to him, her stomach already rumbling with anticipation.

"I can show you how to clean it next," he offered and smirked again as her nose wrinkled at the idea but brief surprise flashed in his eyes when she then unexpectedly nodded her head. "Yeah?" He asked.

She nodded again. "Something you have to show me."

"Don't wanna rely on me for nothing, huh?" He asked and found himself to be only half-teasing as they began walking from the woods, the rabbit swinging at her side.

Beth looked at him, her eyes serious. "That's not it, Daryl," she said, her voice quiet, and it made him feel a flush on the back of his neck. "I just don't expect you to always be taking care of me."

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "Don't mind," he said before he could stop the words.

The flush grew warmer and he wondered what Beth would say to that but she didn't say anything. He wondered if she was just as clueless as he was as to why he had just said that.

They stepped from the trees and continued walking towards the funeral home. The sun was getting lower in the sky, preparing to set in another couple of hours, and with it, the temperature was dropping.

"I'm gonna clean this out here," Daryl said as they stepped onto the porch. He fixed the cans he had strung up to alert them if anything got too near and Beth then handed him the rabbit. "I'll show you how to do this with the next one."

Beth looked up to him. "Thank you for the lesson today."

Daryl shrugged as he usually did when she thanked him for something. "Didn' show you much," he said, trying to deter it and she knew it. "Gettin' cold. Better go inside."

She nodded and gave him one more look; she looking like she wanted to say something more to him but then she turned and went inside, closing the door behind her. When she was gone, Daryl exhaled a deep breath and then pulling his knife from his belt, he sat down to begin getting their dinner ready.

…

When they had first arrived at the home, she and Daryl had done a sweep of all of the rooms and even after they found it empty, they stuck to only the main floor. Beth hadn't want to go downstairs where the bodies had used to be embalmed and she hadn't wanted to go upstairs, going through the belongings of the people who had lived here before. It had never set right with her, going through the things of others.

But there had been a closet in the upstairs hall that she had opened the door to, Daryl aiming his crossbow to before they saw what was inside. The people who had lived here before had stocked bottles of shampoo and conditioner, boxes of toothpaste, packs of razors and boxes of soap, all piled onto the shelves.

"Think they were some of those coupon crazies?" Daryl asked and Beth had giggled.

"Some people just liked having a supplies of essentials," she told him.

He snorted in reply. "Weird supply of what's actually essentials."

She went up the stairs now, the wood creaking beneath her boots, and she opened the door to the closet once she got to it. She studied the contents for a moment, not sure which one to take. She wondered if Daryl had been serious about what he said last night as they ate dinner. About staying here. If they were staying, she would have to ration these things. And if they were leaving, she could only take a few – if any – with her. She didn't want herself weighed down with too many bottles of shampoo when they ran.

She wondered what it would be like staying here. The house was big and clean and secure. It was in the open so they could see if something was coming and there didn't seem to be anyone else around to bother them. Not another Governor. Even walkers seemed scarce around here.

Was it possible for them to stay? She still believed her sister and the rest of their family was alive. They all had to be and she refused to believe anything else. But she and Daryl had been running for so long, surely they couldn't be blamed for taking a while to just stop and breathe.

Playing house with Daryl Dixon. The thought made her giggle and she bit down on her bottom lip to quiet herself.

And yet, she knew that playing house with Daryl Dixon wasn't a bad thing at all.

She decided on a blueberry-scented bar of soap and she took the box, holding it to her chest as if it was as precious as gold used to be. She came down the stairs just as Daryl was stepping inside with the crossbow and the now cleaned rabbit carcass. His hands were even dirtier than before and now bloody.

"I'm gonna light a fire," he jerked his head towards the fireplace in one of the viewing room. "Rabbit should be roasted over a fire." She smiled at that. He looked at her a moment. "You okay?" He then asked for some reason.

Her smile was small but genuine. "I'm fine. Just thinking about things."

Daryl nodded as if he got it and he held the rabbit up. "Hungry?"

"Starving," she nodded eagerly. "And look what I got," she showed him the soap.

"Nice," he commented and she couldn't help but giggle. He looked thoroughly unimpressed. He was quiet for a moment and looked past her up the stairs before back at her. "Wanna sleep up there tonight?"

"Nope," she shook her head, coming down the final steps and standing in front of him. "I feel better sleeping down here," she said he nodded again.

Daryl started a fire and they sat on the floor as the rabbit cooked over the flames. She hugged her knees to her chest and hummed a quiet song and Daryl kept a close eye on the roasting meat, rotating it occasionally, his crossbow close as ever as he listened to her with one ear and to everything else with his other.

"Did you mean what you said last night?" She asked suddenly.

"What did I say?" He asked, his voice gruff from not speaking for an hour now.

She brought her knees down and straightened her legs so they didn't get stiff. She set her eyes on him. "'bout us staying here for a while," she reminded him though she knew that he knew exactly what he had said and what she was referring to.

Daryl grunted something and moved a little closer to the fire. "If you want."

"What do _you_ want?" She asked in return.

She had always noticed that about Daryl. Even before they had even really talked with one another. They were all together, part of the same group, same family, but they had never really had a reason to ever talk to one another. That didn't mean that she didn't noticed him or pay attention to him. Daryl was Rick's right hand man and he did whatever Rick told him to do. It very rarely seemed that Daryl ever did something that someone hadn't told him to do.

She remembered after Lori had died and Judith was just minutes old. Rick was breaking down and no one knew what to do. Daryl had stepped up immediately; had taken charge. And no one had questioned him. Everything Daryl had done in that aftermath had been the right thing. But even then, it was for everyone. Going to the prison in the first place had been Rick's idea. Going to Woodbury had been Rick's idea. Letting everyone from Woodbury into their prison had been Rick's idea. Rick asked Daryl to leap and Daryl never asked how high. He just did.

Without Rick, without anyone, Daryl was in charge. Beth did anything he told her to do – for the most part. He was now the leader and she would do whatever he wanted. If he wanted to stay, they would stay. She could see that Daryl wasn't too used to being asked what he wanted.

He shrugged his shoulders then. "Don't matter to me," he mumbled.

She sighed softly, unable to stop herself. "Daryl-" she began to say.

"Rabbit's done," he cut her off as he carefully pulled the meat from the flames. He set it down and taking his knife, he began cutting pieces off. He didn't pause in his work but he lifted his eyes to her. "We'll stay here a few days," he said. "And then we'll go and when we find the others, maybe we'll bring 'em back here."

That made Beth burst into a smile and Daryl handed her a piece of the meat.

"Sounds like the perfect plan, Mr. Dixon," she teased him lightly and watched as he smirked, leaning back against the chair behind him, eating his own piece of rabbit.

"Good?" He asked, watching her eat with her fingers.

She smiled at him and nodded. "If the world ever gets itself right again, you can be a chef," she said and he snorted at that, almost smiling, and her own smile grew.

She watched him as he ate and the way the flames from the fire danced over him and cast shadows across his face.

He was a handsome man. She had never really noticed it before for as long as they had all been together. But she had had Jimmy and then after that, Zach, and after that, there had been so many other things to do and worry about than look at the gruff older man who always had a crossbow strapped to his back. He was older than her and so far into the inner circle of things while she hovered awkwardly on the outside – no longer a child but not an adult either to those around them.

But out here, with just the two of them, she had begun taking more notice of him. She knew that he didn't look at her like that at all. To him, she was just the annoying kid that he got stuck with when they had all run. Just another mouth to feed and to keep safe and alive. Just another dead girl.

She was trying so hard to prove to him that she was more though. She wanted to learn to hunt and kill and track and she wanted him to not have to always worry about her or hover around because he thought she needed him to.

And while being around Daryl definitely made her feel safe, she wanted to feel safe on her own, too. What if something else happened and they got split up, too? She would be on her own and she had to know these things to take care of herself.

They had grown closer that night they sat on the porch of that house, drunk and drinking moonshine and he had opened up about his past a bit and she had told him things about her in return. She knew it would be impossible for two people not to bond a little after burning a house down together.

And she thought it would be impossible to not develop a small crush on the man who had saved her life countless times over.

Crush. On Daryl Dixon, of all people. She almost snorted.

They finished the rabbit in silence, just the sounds of the wood snapping and breaking in the hearth, and when they were done, Daryl added a couple of more logs he had cut earlier, the fire flaring up.

"I'm exhausted," Beth said and fell backwards onto the floor on her back. Daryl remained sitting up and she turned her head to look at him. "What are we doing tomorrow?" She asked and it was such a normal question, it almost made her laugh.

Daryl looked at her and she could see something close to amusement in his eyes. "Somein' in particular you want to do?" He asked.

"Cut your hair," she smiled. "I found scissors in the kitchen drawer."

He smirked and shook his head, looking into the fire. "Over my dead body."

Her smile instantly vanished and she pushed herself up on her elbows. Her eyes burned into him and feeling her stare, he looked back to her. "Don't say that, Daryl. Don't ever say that again."

Daryl didn't say anything to that but his eyes were intense as they stayed on her. Beth didn't know what to say either. She felt her heart rapidly beating in her chest from his words and just hearing that, even being said in jest, she couldn't handle it. She didn't even want to imagine Daryl being dead. She couldn't. Daryl had been a symbol to everyone in the prison. If he didn't make it, none of them would. He was going to be the last man standing without a doubt in her mind. She needed him to be. Already, she couldn't imagine herself being without him.

She closed her eyes as she felt the stinging of tears. She laid down again. She had already cried far too many times around Daryl Dixon.

The room was heavy and quiet.

"I'll take first watch," Daryl said and Beth nodded, not saying anything at all.

…

Daryl woke up early the next morning with a stiff back, which was how he usually woke up most mornings – especially with sleeping on the floor. He hadn't slept in a casket yet despite telling the truth when he told Beth it was the most comfortable bed he had had in years. Something about lying in a coffin was a bit unsettling.

He sat up slowly and let out a soft grunt as he stretched his arms and got to his feet, waking his other muscles. He noted immediately that Beth wasn't in the living room still and standing still for a while, his ears at attention, he knew she wasn't in the house either. He frowned, grabbing his crossbow from where it had rested next to him as he had slept.

"Beth!" He called out, his voice ringing throughout the empty rooms.

He sighed heavily to himself and wondered how the hell she had slipped out of here without him knowing. They had switched off sometime during the night, Daryl promptly falling asleep after she woke up and took her turn at watch. The house was secure – he had made sure of it their first night – and he had noise alarms outside strung across the front porch to alert them if anyone got too close. He supposed they didn't need to take turns anymore keeping watch. Not like they had when they had set up camps out there but maybe it was just a habit too hard to break.

He moved to the front door and creaked it open, aiming with his crossbow. His eyes were sharp as he scanned the landscape, looking for her slight shape and blonde hair. He still didn't see her and he couldn't call out again, not wanting to alert anything that might be lurking nearby. He felt his heart drum a little faster in his chest and he swore the girl in his head. Where the hell was she? She knew better than to just wander off. Where was she? Taking a morning stroll?

He stepped over the string on the porch and stepped down, his crossbow against his shoulder and aimed. He came around the house and he finally spotted her standing a bit of a ways off in the cemetery. She was staring at a grave, her eyes fixed on the headstone and yellow wildflowers in her hand. He felt himself exhaling a deep breath upon seeing her. He slowly lowered the crossbow as he crossed the grass to her. Her hair was pulled into a braid over her shoulder and he could see as he got closer that it was a bit damp. It was cool out, but the sun was out, shining and warm. Still, she shouldn't be out here like this with a wet head. Girl could get herself sick.

What the hell? She had gotten up and bathed and he hadn't heard anything? He was slipping and he didn't like it. He couldn't afford to.

She couldn't afford him to.

Beth lifted her head when she heard him approach. Her eyes were red from crying and he almost faltered but he pushed on and came to stand beside her. He looked at the tombstone she was looking at and understood the tears. Judith Thompson, dead in 1902. Judith. He hadn't wanted to think of Lil' Asskicker since the prison fell and while his mind had wandered to the others occasionally – Rick, Carol – he had refused to let himself dwell on the baby.

Beth wiped at her cheeks. "You think someone got her out?" She asked him.

"'Course," he answered gruffly.

She exhaled a soft sigh and Daryl watched her as she closed her eyes. "I miss her. I miss her so much, it makes me ache," she confided in him with a soft voice.

Daryl didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything. He was never quite too sure what to say around Beth. He had gotten comfortable around her, had opened up to her on a few occasions, but when it was like this, when she was crying and upset, he felt like a damn toad on the log, trying not to move and draw attention to itself.

"I always wanted a baby," Beth continued. "But I know that that will probably never happen now because…"

_Because the world ended_.

Those were words she didn't have to say.

"But with Judith… she didn't have a mom and I thought maybe… I could be her surrogate mom. I thought…" she trailed off and exhaled a heavy breath. "I thought a lot of stupid things."

"Ain't stupid," Daryl heard himself say and felt himself shake his head. "You took care of that girl better than I ever seen a mom care for their kid."

He didn't say more though. Carl was the only who he had spoken to about his mom and he wasn't ready to divulge Beth with that particular story at the moment. She already knew more about him than most people.

His words made Beth smile faintly and he felt a warmth across his chest as if he had just accomplished something.

He then added, "You'll see her again and when you do, she'll be happy to see her mom again."

Beth laughed at that, tears spilling from her eyes down her cheeks. She leaned into him then and he stiffened as he always did when it looked like Beth was going to start being affectionate with him. She slipped her arm through his and rested her cheek against his bicep, his arm now hugged to her chest. He did his best to ignore the fact that he could feel her breasts through her sweater.

There was no reason to be thinking about breasts right now. Especially this girl's.

"Wanna go huntin' or you want peanut butter for breakfast?" He asked.

"Hunt," she pulled her head back and smiled up at him.

He stared at her for a second and he wasn't quite sure what to do. He felt that maybe he should be saying something else to her but what, he had no idea. He never would have expected that out of the group of people he had spent the past couple of years with, Beth Greene would be the one to make him feel unsettled.

He would gladly take a distraction right then. Any distraction. Hell, he almost wanted a herd of walkers to come through the trees.

Fine, he admitted. He's take any distraction but that one.

When they first got to Herschel's farm, he hadn't thought of Beth. No reason for him to. She was just the farmer's teenage daughter – a bit stupid and naïve to the way the world was now. She was weak and Daryl just figured she'd be dead if the walkers ever took over the farm. Didn't dwell on it and didn't really care. And why should he? Everyone died nowadays.

But the farm was run over and they all had to flee and she was still there, shaken and crying but not dead. Daryl admitted he was surprised.

The group bumped around for months, never staying in one place for long, dodging herds of walkers at seemingly every turn. Beth had killed a few walkers in that time but she was still just a girl. She was quiet and didn't seem to talk unless someone spoke to her directly and even then, she spoke in a soft voice as if she didn't want to annoy anyone with her words.

And even though they were in the same group, Daryl didn't think on her. She was just someone he had to keep safe. He had to keep all of them safe.

When they found the prison and did their best to settle in there, and Judith was born and Beth became the baby's primary caregiver, Daryl noticed she started speaking up more, making her presence in the group known to them all. And now, when they had run from the prison together, he had discovered just how much of a hellcat this girl could actually be.

He didn't think anyone had given him the middle finger as much as Beth Greene already had.

He often thought of their night at the cabin, drinking moonshine and getting drunk, and the way he had talked with her out on that porch.

Something had happened that night between them. He didn't know what though. It was something that had never happened to him before, that he knew for sure.

He thought of that moment after Judith was born and he had been getting himself ready to go out on a run so the baby wouldn't die. He had pulled Beth aside to tell her to look after Carl and as she nodded and looked at him, for a flash of a second, he had realized that she was probably the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

Course, the thought was fleeting and he forgot it almost as soon as he had thought it.

After Beth made sure the flowers would stay in front of the tombstone without being carried away with the wind, they headed into the woods and then paused, Beth watching him as Daryl looked around, trying to pick up the trail of something they could catch.

Without a word, he veered right and Beth followed behind. She was always worried about crowding him and distracting him when he was hunting but the few times she had tried to keep her distance, Daryl had given her a look and told her to get closer before a walker snatched her up.

Beth wiped at her cheeks as he crouched down, studying the forest floor. She had cried in front of him before but this time, when she had, she now felt embarrassment. She didn't like crying in front of Daryl. He was so strong and brave and she was more than the emotional teenager who cried at the drop of a hat. She was more than that; wanted to be more than that to him.

Him. She studied him as he remained deep in concentration. She had never met a man like Daryl Dixon. And that's exactly what he was. A man. Not a boy like Jimmy or Zach or anyone else of the opposite sex that she had known. Daryl was a man – gruff and bordering on mean. He was capable of taking care of both of them and she felt so safe around him.

Beth couldn't help but wonder what Daryl thought of when he looked at her.

He suddenly released a bolt and she gasped as it flew into the bushes, piercing something and it falling to the ground with a quiet thump.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

Daryl shrugged. "Just listen'," he said and went to go collect the bolt and their breakfast. He pulled a squirrel from the bushes. "Want to clean this one?"

Beth hesitated for just a moment before nodding. Daryl went and sat down on a fallen tree and Beth sat down next to him, straddling it, facing him. He leaned the crossbow next to him and without a word, he reached for the knife hanging on her hip, his hand brushing against her thigh, and he pulled it from the sheath. She watched as he didn't hesitate in slicing into the animal and she watched, doing her best not to grimace.

"I was so pissed at you," Beth said in a soft voice.

Daryl paused and turned his head towards her, frowning.

"When you left," she clarified.

"When did I leave?"

"Your brother came back and you left," she said and she felt her face grow warm. She had no idea why she brought this up. "Judith had just been born and we… we needed you there. We were weak without you. You kept us safe."

Daryl didn't say anything. He was now carefully removing the entrails.

"I was so glad you came back," she now said in a whisper.

Daryl still was silent, not entirely too sure what to say to that. When he had found Merle again and they had gotten out of Woodbury, he knew that there was no way his new family would let him come back to the prison with them. Daryl had changed but Merle was still Merle and they all hated him. Rick, Glenn and Maggie had all been stunned and a little horrified when Daryl said that he was going to leave with Merle.

It had been something of a knee-jerk reaction. His brother was there. Brother. Blood. And as fucked up as they both were when together, Merle would always be his brother. He couldn't just leave him. Not again.

He hadn't told anyone besides Rick and Carol how he had stabbed his own brother in the head when he had turned.

"Here," Daryl cleared his throat. "Hold out your hand."

Beth did without pause or question. He smirked as he then dropped the squirrel head into her palm.

"Daryl." She didn't shriek. It almost sounded as if she was scolding him.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Daryl grinned.

…

"Look, Daryl," Beth suddenly said and within an instant, he had turned, crossbow aimed and ready to fire. He saw her standing next to a low bush, covered with clusters of black berries. "What are they?" She asked.

"Damn, girl. Don't you know an elderberry when you see it?" He asked, coming back to her.

Beth turned a frown on him. "No. That's why I have you here," she reminded him.

Daryl smirked and plucked a couple from their branch, popping them into his mouth. And once Beth saw him do that, she took one for herself and dropped it into her mouth. She smiled as she chewed on it and Daryl couldn't help but smile a little, too, as he watched her.

"Do you have your rag?" She asked.

Without a word, he pulled the red bandana from his back pocket and she began plucking as many berries as she could. Daryl kept watch, his eyes quick and sharp, not rushing her as she took as many berries she wanted.

"I lived off of those before," he then said though he wasn't sure why.

Beth looked at him. "Really? When?" She finished and closed the bandana over the berries carefully and they began walking again.

"When I was younger, out in the woods. Somethin' else I taught myself," he said. She was looking at him as if she knew there was more to the story. "I was lost in the woods for nine days," he then said and he saw no big deal to it. Just one of those things that happened when he was a kid that seemed to be normal. "Ate berries most of those days. And when I got back, that's when I knew I had to get pretty damn good at huntin' in case it ever happened again."

Beth didn't say anything; not too sure what to say. She wanted to know things about him. She wanted to know anything and everything and it was rare that he open up and when he did, she made sure to listen to every single word. But sometimes, what he said, it was all just said so completely casual and it always stunned her a little. Daryl – a little kid – had been in the woods for nine days and no one in his life had cared. Beth looked up at him and he seemed so unbothered.

If Daryl disappeared for even an hour, she would panic.

"Do you like elderberries?" She asked him, breaking the somewhat heavy silence.

Daryl nodded and shrugged. "They're alrigh'," he said.

They got back to the funeral home and Beth paused, looking around. When she moved her eyes back to him, he was already looking at her.

"Isn't it strange?" She asked.

She didn't need to elaborate. He knew what she meant.

"A lil'," he admitted. "But I'm not hopin' for any if that's what you mean."

Beth smiled faintly as she looked up at him. "It's really peaceful here. Even more than it was at the prison. You could always hear them at the fences, growling and snarling, but here… I like that it feels like we're the only ones in the world," she said.

Daryl didn't know what to say to that.

A few weeks ago, she had wanted to kill him, it seemed. They had fought and argued and Daryl had wanted to kill her himself.

And now, she liked them being alone like this? He knew he wanted to ask her why but something inside of himself stopped before he could. Was that an answer he wanted to hear? Maybe she didn't even have an answer.

"Wanna still give me a haircut?" He asked suddenly.

Her smile was immediate. "Can I?"

"I'm not sayin' it again," he said and taking the squirrel carcass, he went into the house with Beth right behind him.

…

He'd have to go out again and hunt some more. They needed a few more animals to last them a few days. He wasn't sure how long they were staying. He had said that they would head out in couple of days and resume the search of the others but what she had said earlier, about it feeling like they were the only two in the world and how much she had liked it, Daryl admitted that he liked it, too.

They ate their squirrel – which was hardly enough to even fill their stomachs halfway – and then Beth situated a chair in front of the kitchen sink. The house still had running water – cold as ice but running nonetheless – and he sat there as she washed his hair. Her fingers were soft and gentle, massaging his scalp, and Daryl couldn't help but close his eyes at her touch. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him like this. He had a feeling it was never. Not gentle like this. His mom, too buried in her bottles to care about giving him affection, and his dad only ever touched him with a belt on his back.

The way Beth washed his hair now, it almost made him moan out but he was sure to swallow it down before he could.

"Up," Beth said after nearly ten minutes and she turned off the water.

Daryl followed his instructions and sat up, holding a towel around his shoulders. She stood there with scissors in her hand, studying his head.

Daryl frowned up at her. "Get on with it 'fore I change my mind," he said.

"Don't rush me. I'm trying to think what I want," she said. "I think… not too short but not too long."

Daryl rolled his eyes and he felt her flick his earlobe with her fingers in response.

"Don't move or I might cut your throat by accident," she said.

He smirked. "Girl, you ain't gettin' rid of me that easy," he said as he felt the first cut of the scissors. He made sure to keep himself still.

"I hope not," he could have sworn he heard her say softly but he was fairly certain he had imagined that response. No reason for her to say something like that.

She hummed as she cut and again, Daryl felt his eyes drifting close. And with his eyes closed, his mind was able to wander. He was still in that kitchen with Beth but things were different. This was their house and they lived here and this was something she did for him. He would be out hunting and he would come home, bringing her his kill so she could cook them something for dinner and she would point to the chair and he would know that she wanted to cut his hair without her needing to say it.

It was a stupid thought and he nearly snorted at it.

But then he felt Beth's hand grasping his chin in a light grip as she held his head still and clipped at the hair around his ears. He didn't know how her skin could be as soft as it was. Even when she was covered in dirt and sweat, she always looked clean; cleaner than he ever was and her skin was as soft as a pillow. She wasn't built for this world and Daryl found himself hoping again. As long as he was around, she wouldn't have to be and she could keep her smooth skin.

He felt himself scowling. What the hell was the matter with him?

"There," Beth declared and he opened his eyes again to see her smiling and looking quite pleased.

Daryl stood up, rubbing the towel over his head and he caught his distorted reflection in the toaster on the counter. Like she had wanted – short but not too short. He admitted that his head did feel a bit lighter and better.

"That out of your system now?" He asked, trying to keep scowling, but she didn't seem to mind or notice and she kept smiling.

"Thank you, Daryl," she said and then bounced up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

…

* * *

**Something found that I never posted. I hope you liked it. Thank you for reading and please take a moment to review!**

**(And the title comes from one of my favorite songs in the world - "Big Black Car" by Gregory Alan Isakov.)**


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